Post by cicci on Oct 30, 2011 0:40:19 GMT 10
Title: Silence
Rating: PG (mayyyybe PG-13?)
Prompt: #54 Lost
Summary: Tomlan Goodwin and his wife after the news.
Words: 266
Warnings: Mastiff Spoilers
-
His Clary went quiet.
As long as Tomlan Goodwin had known his wife, she’d never been afraid to express her opinions. In fact, she took great pleasure in expressing them rather loudly.
Every Dog in Corus feared a scolding from Sergeant Goodwin.
But not now. Not this time. Not over this cove.
Beka delivered the news herself, though it was clear it almost killed her to do so. She spoke as she had done when she was just 16, stuttering and stammering, instead of the last years’ grown mot’s speech.
And Clary… Clary said nothing. When she finally understood what Beka was trying to tell her, she opened her mouth a little. But not a sound came out.
Beka left soon thereafter. The next few days saw visits from those closest to Clary; Ahuda, the Lord Provost, even the Rouge himself.
Clary said nothing, did nothing. She stared at the embroidery in her lap, her normally busy hands idle.
Those were the days. At night, she made love to him with a fierce, quiet and almost brutal concentration. Afterwards his girl slept in his arms, tears sneaking down her cheeks, the only time she would allow them to fall. Even then, she never said a word.
Lost, Tom thought one afternoon when his wife stared out the window, it was as if some part of her was lost, some part of Clary the mot and Goodwin the dog both.
Then he smiled, just a touch of bitterness in the twist of his lips. That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? There was something lost.
Someone.
Rating: PG (mayyyybe PG-13?)
Prompt: #54 Lost
Summary: Tomlan Goodwin and his wife after the news.
Words: 266
Warnings: Mastiff Spoilers
-
His Clary went quiet.
As long as Tomlan Goodwin had known his wife, she’d never been afraid to express her opinions. In fact, she took great pleasure in expressing them rather loudly.
Every Dog in Corus feared a scolding from Sergeant Goodwin.
But not now. Not this time. Not over this cove.
Beka delivered the news herself, though it was clear it almost killed her to do so. She spoke as she had done when she was just 16, stuttering and stammering, instead of the last years’ grown mot’s speech.
And Clary… Clary said nothing. When she finally understood what Beka was trying to tell her, she opened her mouth a little. But not a sound came out.
Beka left soon thereafter. The next few days saw visits from those closest to Clary; Ahuda, the Lord Provost, even the Rouge himself.
Clary said nothing, did nothing. She stared at the embroidery in her lap, her normally busy hands idle.
Those were the days. At night, she made love to him with a fierce, quiet and almost brutal concentration. Afterwards his girl slept in his arms, tears sneaking down her cheeks, the only time she would allow them to fall. Even then, she never said a word.
Lost, Tom thought one afternoon when his wife stared out the window, it was as if some part of her was lost, some part of Clary the mot and Goodwin the dog both.
Then he smiled, just a touch of bitterness in the twist of his lips. That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? There was something lost.
Someone.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!